Brendan Bald

Tag: Brendan Bald Blog

  • Life as a WILDCARD

    Life as a WILDCARD

    “I’m a WILDCARD.”

    That’s what I tell people when they ask me what my next big move is. 

    There’s something fun about describing myself as a wildcard. It makes me feel free and unpredictable. That’s how actors should feel, right? I mean, I ditched predictability when I decided to stop being a lawyer. I needed to get in touch with my creative side. I needed change. 

    And I got it. 

    I’ve been pursuing the arts for a year and a half now and every day is different.  My work schedule varies weekly. My retail hours change. Some weeks I’m giving tours twice a week – other times it’s 5 times a week.  Some weeks I’m on set acting in my latest indie project. Other weeks I’m writing creatively. Or memorizing lines. Or reading veraciously.

    Every week is different but no big moves have really been made. 

    If I’m the “wildcard” I claim to be, eventually I’ll have to make a big move. But what will it be?

    This question has been bugging me the last couple months. I’ve been thinking a lot about where I want to be. Is Nashville home? Do I want to move to Los Angeles? Do I want to move to Atlanta? 

    I’ve also been thinking about what I want to do. Is Acting my end all be all career? Will I be happy making a living working retail and giving tours in the meantime? 

    The answer to all of the above questions is one BIG FAT I DON’T KNOW. 

    But here’s where my head’s at…

    I love acting. But as of now (and likely for the foreseeable future) I’m not making a living acting. I’ve got a LONG WAYS to go before that becomes a possibility. I’ve been told that acting is a 10-year business. Meaning, it takes 10 years before you can make a living to doing it. 

    I knew the whole making a living thing would be hard before I transitioned. I’m also perfectly aware that I started late. I’m a 29-year-old, straight, caucasian male with nothing but non-union credits to my name. Not the best age, casting, and credits – I know. 

    So, if I can’t rely on acting for money, how will I make a living?

    So far, I’ve been able to scrape by working retail, giving tours, freelance writing, as well as picking up random jobs here and there. But is that life sustainable? Will that work keep me happy while I pursue my creative interests?

    I don’t think it will. 

    I need something else. Working numerous part-time jobs and pursuing acting will be difficult to sustain. I would LOVE if I found something else, in addition to acting, that I was passionate about. Something that would allow me to make a living. 

    What is that something else?

    Here comes another BIG FAT I DON’T KNOW. 

    Here’s what I do know…

    I know that I love film and television. I love the creative elements, the production elements, even the post production and marketing elements. The magic of film and television interest me to no end. It’s what drew me to acting in the first place. I veraciously read books on the film business, screenwriting, storytelling, directing, producing, and Hollywood in general. So wouldn’t it be awesome if I could somehow make a living working IN the film industry? That question is rhetorical. It would most definitely be awesome.

    Does that mean I should move to Los Angeles? Should I do what all Hollywood newbies do and become a production assistant?

    This is something that I’ve been seriously considering the last couple months.

    Los Angeles would allow me to continue my acting career and pursue opportunities within the film industry (outside of acting). Sounds like a win-win to me. 

    So what’s holding me back?

    MONEY.

    Not a good excuse, I know. But hear me out…

    Los Angeles is expensive. And landing a legit assistant gig in Hollywood is DIFFICULT. Hundreds apply and success depends on who you know. And how do you “get to know” people in the industry if you don’t currently live there? You can’t. 

    So either I save up a chunk of savings, move to LA, and hope I can survive until I can find an industry gig. OR I settle for a non-industry gig to pay the bills and network my way into an assistant gig. 

    The second option is more likely considering my current financial situation.

    If you’ve read this far, clearly you can see I’m leaning towards moving to LA. 

    The question now is when do I pull the trigger and move?

    Time for my third BIG FAT I DON’T KNOW. 

    I’m in no rush. When I made my career transition away from law, I deployed a ton of patience in my life. Success doesn’t come overnight.  It takes time. 

    When I feel the time is right for me, I’ll make my move to Los Angeles. 

    But then again, Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll move somewhere completely different. Maybe I’ll even stay in Nashville. Who knows…

    After-all, I am a WILDCARD!

    -Brendan 

  • Camp Friendship: A True Story

    Camp Friendship: A True Story

    I didn’t always hate camping. But one summer changed everything…

    Way back in the day when I was just a young and innocent little child, my parents sent me and my brother to an outdoor “adventure” camp. It was called Camp Friendship. This was our first overnight summer camp away from our parents. We were excited for sure but also nervous at the same time. 

    The traumatizing events that occurred at Camp Friendship permanently cemented my hatred of camping and also my fear of bugs. 

    I remember the events of my first 24 hours at Camp Friendship vividly. I remember being dropped off by my parents and receiving a brief tour by one of the counselors. I remember getting so excited after seeing the huge pool, jet skis, and archery station (I was randomly super into archery). But the minute I moved my luggage into my “cabin,” everything changed. 

    Not but 2 minutes after meeting my cabin counselor, he told me about the black widow spiders within the cabin. Now I don’t know if y’all know about black widow spiders. But they are Satan’s spawn. They are what nightmares are made of. If you don’t know – google it. 

    At the time, all I knew about black widow spiders was that they were huge and deadly. So yeah – I was terrified. Anyways, our counselor had found a family of Black Widow Spiders inside of our cabin the day before and instead of moving the kids out of the cabin, he simply told us to be on the “look out” for them. Apparently, black widows were prevalent in the area. 

    If you don’t think this start to camp was horrifying enough, don’t worry because things escalated quickly. In the middle of my cabin counselor’s forewarning about the poisonous spiders living amongst us, a freakin RAT ran over the tops of my feet. I about near had a heart attack. I was also wearing flip flops. I felt that piece of shit run right over the tops of my bare-naked feet. I was so terrified at the time that I couldn’t even articulate words to say. I just kind of stood there frozen – like a deer in headlights. I then remember my cabin counselor responding all calmly “oh yeah, sometimes rats get in here as well.”  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??? He then proceeded to hand me my agenda and took off. 

    At this point, I wanted to go home ASAP. I had had enough of this shit. And I was in no mood to do a bunch of dumb ass camp games at the Camp Friendship orientation. So you know what I did? I skipped it. I threw my agenda away and decided to do my own thing. I put on my bathing suit and went out to find the pool. I was going to try and salvage some fun out of this trip before calling mommy and daddy to pick me up. 

    The only problem was that I had absolutely no effing idea where anything was. I’ve always been a little geographically challenged – still am today. But I had no idea where the pool was. So I just started to wander. I eventually ended up at a shooting range in the middle of the woods. It was a bunch of older kids firing rifles at targets. When the counselor saw me, he asked where I was supposed to be. I lied. I told him I was supposed to be at the range. This dude had to have known I was lying because the kids in this group were like 7 years older than me. But the counselor didn’t care. He gave me a gun and let me shoot. I felt like such a badass. This is the ONLY dope thing that happened on this trip. 

    Anyways, after the shooting range I followed the guys back to the cafeteria. There I found my brother and my assigned counselor. I got in a little trouble for skipping but got away with it because I told them I was lost. I then proceeded to tell him that I wanted to go home ASAP. I was crying my eyes out. I was NOT a tough ass kid. I was terrified and missed my parents. I REALLY wanted to go home. But the counselor wasn’t having it. He told me he’d call my parents in the morning and that a lot of kids want to go home at first but end up having the time of their lives. Yada yada yada – it sounded like bullshit to me and I was so pissed. After dinner it was time for showers. This is where shit gets REAL. 

    The showers and bathrooms were in a separate building probably 100 yards from our cabin. I remember thinking that maybe a hot shower would make me feel better. Boy was I wrong. 

    The showers were set up like a locker room. Just a bunch of small shower stalls with curtains. It was a little late so not many people were in there. I picked a stall, opened the curtain, and walked inside. I then reached back to close the curtain but felt something crawling on my hand. I quickly turned around and saw that the back of my shower curtain was crawling with hundreds of cockroaches. I am not exaggerating. There were hundreds of cockroaches crawling up and down this fuckin curtain. Some hanging and others falling to the ground near my feet. I can see this image clear as day as I type this. 

    After seeing the cockroaches, I freaked the hell out. I was literally trapped. No way I was going to use my hand to open this cockroach invested curtain. So I came up with this brilliant plan to use my flip flop to pull the curtain back. It worked (thank god) and I sprinted out of their faster than Usain Bolt in the 2012 Olympics. 

    I ran to the head counselors cabin, knocked on his door, and begged him to take me home. Tears were FLOWING. At this point he finally called my parents but wouldn’t let me talk to them. After his phone call he told me that my parents would come visit the next day. He then proceeded to let me use the counselor’s bathroom to shower. 

    The next day my parents didn’t visit but they did send me and my brother a giant care package full of every candy and snack imaginable. This definitely softened the blow.

    The rest of my experience at Camp Friendship wasn’t nearly as bad as the first 24 hours. The counselors let me use their bathroom the rest of the week. So lucky for me, I didn’t have to come across anymore cockroaches. I also never saw a black widow. And no more rats ran over my feet. Any fun I ended up having has since been blocked out of my memory due to my horrific first 24 hours. 

    This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate camping. Don’t try and convince otherwise because you will fail. 

    That is all. 

    Over and out. 

    ~Brendan